A Lady's Experiences in the Wild West in 1883

By Mary Rose Gregge-Hopwood Pender

"Pender was the only one to come out unscathed...claimed her English superiority at the expense of the Americans." -Frontiers of Femininity (2008)

"Rose Pender...toured the American West, partly to inspect a Wyoming cattle ranch in which they'd invested." -The Magnificent Mountain Women (2020)

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bookcrop
• Release date: Aug 15, 2023
• ISBN: 9781088251607

Book preview

PREFACE.

So many years have elapsed since I wrote the little history of our trip through the Wild West, I feel I must now write a short preface to explain what might otherwise appear a series of misstatements. The changes that have taken place between 1883 and 1888 would appear little short of marvellous did we not know how rapidly things alter, disappear and improve in America.

For instance, where only a few years ago such a visitation was deemed improbable, if not utterly impossible, a railroad has now been made right through the best of the cattle-raising country, bringing with it gangs of grangers (or farmers) and emigrants. Tracts of land have been taken up, fences run for miles, water rights disputed, and the unhappy cattle rancheman has been slowly, but surely, driven off.

Then the collapse of the gigantic Indian Territory cattle scheme, through reasons which I cannot give here, as it would be opening too wide a question for me to venture an opinion upon-flooded the ranges with vast herds of cattle. Where, during our tour, we complained of the long sweeps of rich pasture with hardly a head of cattle to be seen, now the grass is literally eaten down to the root. A succession of such severe winters as were not even taken into consideration have decimated the herds. Scarcity of food has done the rest; and happy, indeed, is the owner of cattle who can safely count on only 50 or 60 per cent. of loss. The cattleman is looking sadly forlorn, and asks himself why such persistent ill-luck has pursued him.

The price of beef has been systematically kept down, so that profit by this means is stopped.

The loss of calves by the late cold springs has been terrible, and I believe we may safely consider that the number of cattle in the West is reduced by some 50 per cent. all through. This is very depressing, no doubt; still there is always some silver lining, however black the cloud. The price of beef and also of cattle must rise, and those ranchemen who have saved a portion of their stock may hope to realise almost as good a profit from their remaining herds as they would have done with twice the number a year ago. There is still a future for cattle owners—a future, be it remarked, I do not say a fortune.

Like most industries now-a-days, especially agricultural ones, by good management and hard work a living is to be made by them, but the good old time of fortune-making has gone by. There is too much competition over everything, and it becomes a difficulty to live.

As I have often been asked, What is a Round-up? I will, in a few words, explain it. In plain English, a Round-up is a search or hunt in the spring for all the cattle in the locality. Several owners join together. An outfit, which consists of waggons drawn by mules, a large herd of horses, and as many men from each owner as is necessary, is assembled, under the command of a headman or foreman. The country is systematically scoured for miles, sometimes for hundreds of miles. All the cattle collected are driven to some settled locality, when the calves are branded, and the beeves destined for market are driven off, a rough estimate of profit or loss is made out, and when this part of the business is finished the Round-up terminates, and the men depart to their ranches. There is usually an autumn Round-up for the fat oxen and the late calves, but this is not so important as the calf Round-up in the spring.

Having offered this short apology for the many discrepancies that will, no doubt, be discovered between my assertions of then and the facts of now, I throw myself on the kindness and forbearance of my readers, and subscribe myself their very humble Servant,

THE AUTHORESS,

March, 1888.

CHAPTER I

It was a cold, dull morning when the Servia came into her berth in the North River and we touched American ground for the first time. We had had a remarkably fine passage for the time of year, and made the voyage in seven and a half days from Queenstown. It had been rough at times and very cold, especially off Newfoundland, where we sighted several icebergs. I think we were all very glad to be on shore, for a voyage across the Atlantic in the month of March is not a pleasure trip. My first impression of New York was certainly not a favourable one, and the frightful confusion and scrambling for luggage in the huge shed-like edifice where all the contents of the Servia were thrown down pellmell, without the least regard to letters or numbers, did not lessen it, anything worse managed being impossible to conceive. It was a hunt amongst hundreds of boxes and cases for one's own especial property, and when this was found the weary passenger had to drag his or her box or portmanteau to where he or she proposed to form their pile, and then continue the search till by degrees all the belongings are secured. Then another hunt for an officer to examine the luggage; and, for a free country, this search is anything but a form. Woe betide you if you have a suspiciously new-looking dress or jacket at the top of your box. You will then have all your goods turned topsy turvy, in spite of all protestations. I was told that a gold piece or two might help to lessen the zeal of the Custom House servants, but that it was a dangerous thing to attempt, as there were spies constantly on the look out for officers accepting bribes; so we allowed events to take their course.

Thanks principally to our friend Mr. W, of the Direct United States Cable Company, we escaped very easily, and about two hours after leaving the ship we found ourselves bumping over the New York pavement en route to the Brevoort House. The distance could not have been much over two miles, but the modest charge made by our hack driver was five dollars. Cab hire is very extravagant in New York, and either on this account, or perhaps owing to the terrible state of the pavements, which really makes driving a painful experience, very few people employ the cabs; tram-cars, the elevated railroad, or even an omnibus is preferred.

Of course, my husband was interviewed even before he left the ship, and though he really barely answered his interrogator beyond what civility demanded, next morning a column and a half was taken up in the Morning Journal detailing the remarks and opinions that had not been elicited from him.

We had very comfortable rooms at the Brevoort, which is a first-class hotel, and certainly as good a restaurant as could be found anywhere. That the charges are excessive is only a natural sequence, but that the whole place should be kept so unbearably heated by hot air was, to me, a far more serious grievance. It was really cruel. One could hardly breathe anywhere inside, and my only alternative to being roasted was to turn off the hot air and sit in my bedroom and shiver, as it was bitterly cold outside and the snow was falling fast.

New York society was in a state of pleasurable excitement when we arrived anent a huge fancy ball to be given by the Vanderbilts, which was to come off that night, and which turned out a most successful affair. The dresses were superb. I saw one or two that were really most beautiful, and were made in New York; but, of course, most of the costumes came from Paris.

I will not describe our stay in this gay city, but I must gratefully acknowledge the kindness and hospitality that was shown us by everyone. We only remained in New York a few days, but quite long enough to feel at home with several charming families. I was taken to most of the places of special interest, and generally made free of the City in the pleasantest manner possible, and in the kindest company.

We felt really sorry to move on, but our time was limited, and we had rather to rush it.

We left for Washington on the 3rd of April, and this was my first acquaintance with the mode of American railway travelling. I am forced to own I disliked it. The absence of porters to carry one's bags, &c., the hurry, and, oh! the fearful heat of the carriages into which one is thrust, amongst a crowd of fellow sufferers, is horrid. There is no privacy, or comfort, or quiet; the conductors keep marching through demanding to look at the tickets every half-hour or so, and their habit of banging the doors at each end becomes maddening; then come fruit, candy, and book sellers, apparently at their own sweet wills, pestering one to buy, sometimes laying a book or sample of their goods on your lap, by way, I suppose, of inducing the unwary to commit themselves. Every window is fast shut, and if we ventured to open one near us savage looks and stern requests from the conductor to close it, on account of some lady or child being sick, greeted us at once, and if we insisted on keeping a portion of it open a general stampede took place to seats at a distance from the partly opened window. I think Americans as a rule have as great a dread of fresh air as the Germans, and the general stuffiness that pervaded all their arrangements was very trying to me all through our wanderings.

Washington is about seven hours by rail from New York, and we left the latter place at three in the afternoon. It was too dark to see anything as we drove to Wormsley's Hotel. Mr. and Mrs. Hubbard, who are old friends and met us at the station, kindly took me in their own carriage, and Jamie, Bob, and Mr. E. Beaumont all followed in the omnibus.

Our luggage arrived shortly afterwards, having been expressed to the hotel. This system of delivery of luggage is excellent in theory, but in practice it requires better management. Such a system would not work where the passenger traffic was very heavy. You express your luggage to the hotel at which you have decided to stay; the expressman and his vehicle come for the goods, and gives you a large medal with a number attached for each package. If you have many packages your pocket becomes very heavy with the medals. Before reaching your journey's end another expressman comes on board," takes your checks away and gives you others, which you retain till your luggage is delivered. If you lose a check you are in danger of losing the package, or it sometimes happens that you get a wrong medal, and then you find you have some one else's bag or bundle instead of your own, which is trundling away towards San Francisco or somewhere. Another drawback is the delay in delivery. Hours sometimes elapse before the luggage arrives, and after a long dreary journey, when one is anxious to get to bed or obtain a change of raiment, it is most annoying, to say nothing of one's natural anxiety for the safety of the luggage. On the whole, I much prefer the English method, and taking my boxes, &c., away on my own cab.

Wormsley's Hotel is kept by a coloured man, and all the waiters, serving-maids, &c., are coloured. It is a very comfortable hotel, though plain and homely in its arrangements; the black waiters are very civil and obliging, but terribly slow. The black man's intellect is far slower than his white brother's, and it takes considerable patience to get him to understand what you mean; but he is good-tempered and jolly, and I like him far better than the pretentious half-breed, who is, as a rule, sulky and disagreeable.

Washington is a charming city; so well planned and laid out, and so beautifully clean. The streets are chiefly paved with asphalte, and are kept in good order. I mention this particularly, as the want of well-paved streets is a striking feature in most large American towns. The Capitol, which answers to our Houses of Parliament, stands on a hill. It is prettily constructed of white marble, and is an imposing structure. The inside strikes one as poor and tawdry. I had my attention particularly drawn to some huge paintings representing the defeat of the English troops, and pourtraying various British disasters of the year of